


Undertow

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Works for Others [41]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Coping, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, Werewolves, werewolf!Gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Nines wants to help Gavin through his shift. Gavin doesn't make it easy.





	Undertow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foxflannel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxflannel/gifts).



> the lovely FoxFlannel desired some more werewolf!Gavin fic, so here it is! hope yall enjoy!

Seeing Gavin like this wasn’t easy. 

Nines hadn’t been under some delusion that it would be. He hadn’t gone home after that first night several months ago with some misconstrued notion that Gavin, his partner, his friend, could live his secret life alongside his public one without the two causing friction. If he’d thought him knowing would help things, that he could tamp it all down and pretend knowing hadn’t changed things… Well, Nines would be a fool. He’d be a fool who was woefully unprepared to offer Gavin the help he so clearly needed when the change came over him come the night of the full moon. 

It’d taken months to convince Gavin to let him do this for him. Months of arguing, debating, and copious simulations run to prove to Gavin that bringing him to the precinct was a better course of action than letting him stay locked up in his home when the shift happened. There were less things to break here, Nines had argued. The walls in the interrogation rooms were reinforced, purposefully designed to withstand trauma from within. The one-way mirror allowed safe observation if it became dangerous to stay in the room with him, and if Gavin needed assistance… Well, this was much safer than having him be alone in his home with no way to call for help. 

Gavin had argued back that he didn’t need help. That he’d been dealing with this on his own for long enough that he had it down to a science, and no, he really didn’t need Nines worrying about him. He didn’t need him sticking his nose into things that didn’t concern him. That they weren’t  _ friends,  _ and just because he’d appreciated the soup and company that one time didn’t mean he wanted it  _ all  _ the time. 

Nines had simply looked at Gavin and stared. He’d stared, then stared a bit more, and slowly the fight died in Gavin’s body language. 

“You’re being stupid,” he’d said. 

“Well, fuck you too,” Gavin had sighed, giving in with his posture more than his words. 

Even then, it’d still taken hours to get Gavin into the car with him that afternoon. Hours of arguing, debating, and more simulations. In the end Gavin had been too worn out from the impending shift to keep up with Nines any longer. He’d shepherded him into the waiting car and brought him in alongside a box filled to the brim with things they might require to make it through the night in tact. 

So, here Nines was. He lifted a hand and pressed his fingers to the one-way glass on the outside of the interrogation room, looking in on the mass of trembling fur that had become Detective Gavin Reed roughly one hour ago. He’d stood here and watched the change occur, grateful that the rooms were sound-proofed on top of reinforced. Gavin’s transformation had looked painful. Nines had been programmed to withstand such things, to be able to sit by and watch horrendous displays of pain, fear, and the grotesque without balking. 

Even with his core programming still in tact post deviancy, it’d been a struggle not to turn away when the bones began to crack and reshape beneath Gavin’s stretching, distended skin. 

“It’s not as bad as it could have been,” Lieutenant Anderson spoke, sipping on a coffee that Nines could tell by scent alone wasn’t decaf and certainly wasn’t unspiked. Baileys, he identified. The display must have been rough on him too. “He was calm when he came in here. It’d be worse if he had been anxious.” 

“How do you know?” Nines wondered, recalling how Hank had known before about this the first time he’d asked where Gavin went each month. Hank knew so much about this strange affliction. Had Gavin told him himself? It was hard to believe, knowing Gavin as he did. Then again, Gavin must have told Hank  _ something  _ to preserve his job. Not many people could get away with missing days of work on a monthly, regular basis without some form of excuse to explain away the absences. 

“Let’s just say I’ve gotten wiser in my old age and leave it at that. You don’t have to go in there, you know,” the Lieutenant told him. A muted buzz sounded. He looked away and reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. Nines barely needed to flick his eyes in the man’s direction to know it was Connor contacting him. Their shift had ended. They were going to be late going home. 

Nines looked back at Gavin. They’d be late going home as well. 

“It’s fine, Lieutenant,” Nines said, turning to face Hank fully once the text was answered and the phone put back in his pocket. Nines managed a weak smile. “He won’t hurt me. Please, don’t worry about us. Enjoy your evening. I can handle things here.”

Hank’s brow furrowed. A frown fought to find its way onto his lips. “If something happens—”

“I will contact Connor immediately,” Nines interjected. “He will in turn tell you, and you can return here to lend aid.” He knew it wouldn’t come down to that but the Lieutenant needed reassurance. At least with his immediate fears assuaged he could perhaps go about his evening without feeling the need to return unannounced. 

Nothing was going to happen tonight but that didn’t mean Nines wanted to tempt fate by allowing unanticipated surprises to occur regardless. 

Hank let out a sigh and reluctantly shrugged, turning away from Nines. He gave a last lingering look at the wolf curled up on the floor of the interrogation room. “Don’t get in over your head, kid,” he said over his shoulder, already walking towards the bullpen where Connor was no doubt waiting. “Gavin’s not easy to handle on the best of days, let alone like this.”

Nines just nodded, refusing to turn away from his observations. “I will be fine,” he said quietly. “We will be fine.”

But Hank was already gone, and now Nines was alone. 

Well, not entirely alone. 

Best he not keep Gavin waiting. Nines stood straight, recalibrating quickly in his own way; it steadied him, he found, settling his nerves. Once the test was completed, he moved towards the interrogation room door. The whole point of this new set up was to alleviate the danger of Gavin’s self-imposed solitude, and far be it from Nines to add to the stress the detective was no doubt already beginning to feel by keeping him alone longer than he needed to be. He knocked gently on the door and then came inside.

Gavin as a wolf was just as impressive a sight now as it had been the very first time Nines had seen him. He was large, bulky, his paws and head enormous and his eyes watchful and keen. He lifted his head when Nines opened the door and didn’t bother lowering it until Nines had closed it behind himself. He let out a rumble deep in his chest. Nines took it as permission to approach. 

“How are you feeling, Detective?” he asked, lowering himself into a crouch once he was perhaps a foot or so away from Gavin and his makeshift nest of blankets and pilfered pillows. Lieutenant Anderson had graciously offered to allow them the use of Sumo’s dog bed for the evening, stating that Gavin was scrawny enough that the large dog’s bed would probably fit him fine. Nines had found the idea kind and thoughtful, and had been about to accept when Gavin exploded and told the Lieutenant where he could shove his dog bed. 

That same energy was absent now. Gavin was as listless as a rainy day, body language tired and tail conspicuously still. He rolled his shoulders and yawned. He folded his front paws in front of his head and rested his head on them tiredly. Nines shuffled a few inches closer. Gavin tensed, growling warningly under his breath. 

“The Lieutenant expressed worry about you,” Nines offered, keeping his tone light, conversational. The more he acted like this was normal, that he was unaffected, perhaps the more Gavin would relax and lower his raised hackles. He’d been told before that stress levels impacted the physical toll of the change. If he could mitigate any part of the pain this shift caused, he would do so immediately and to the very best of his ability. “I assured him you were fine; I would have emulated your own way of responding but I didn’t feel it appropriate to call my superior officer a jackass.” 

That got him a laugh, or as close to a laugh as a canine was capable of making. Gavin shifted and shuffled, making himself more comfortable in the nest he’d made for himself out of the blankets Nines had thought to bring along. His tail wagged a little. Nines smiled. He came closer and eased himself onto the ground, his back to the wall and his hand reaching out slowly to pet Gavin. 

“May I?”

Gavin closed his eyes. Nines didn’t need to research canine behavioral patterns to know it was permission enough to do as he pleased. He let his hand fall to Gavin’s back, combing his fingers through the thick sable fur. Gavin’s pattern resembled a coyote more than a wolf in that regard, patterned with spots and panels of lighter fur against the dark, dark chestnut that echoed his natural hair color. What determined the pattern? Was it something innate? Something defined by the inner personality or some kind of latent behavioral parallel? Nines let his processors pick apart the query and file it away for later. Gavin couldn’t speak like this. Perhaps if things went well he’d deign to answer some more questions once he returned to his usual form. 

He’d asked a lot of them after that first night. Gavin had returned to his normal form the following morning, naked and bruised in patches that correlated to the battered maelstrom that his home had been subjected to but with cuts and marks that were bloody and raw looking too. He’d awoken slowly, then all at once when he caught sight of Nines’s lap beneath his head. Nines had told him good morning, and then Gavin had snapped to attention, grabbing the blanket off the top of the couch in a rush while shouting at Nines to tell him what the fuck he thought he was doing, busting into his home like that. He’d hurriedly wrapped the blanket around himself but not before Nines had seen every inch of him naked. 

Deep, scarred gashes cut down his back in lines too wide and ragged to have been from any sort of normal accident. There was a story behind those wounds. A story he hoped to hear one day since it had been clear that morning that Gavin wanted to do nothing more than put on some pants and kick him out of his disaster of a home. 

In some ways, Nines likened the shift to a bad bender. Gavin woke up groggy a day later, slurring and in pain, memory riddled with holes and a temper that rivaled him on his worst days. Nines hoped this change of venue might help alleviate those nasty after effects. Stress made things worse. Solitude made things worse. Gavin was a highly empathetic creature in this form. Try as he might to want to hide this side of himself from Nines, Nines knew it would do him better to have company. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked quietly, digging his fingers behind Gavin’s tapered ears to scratch them the way that Gavin liked best. Gavin’s eyes opened a crack, his tongue lolling out as he leaned into the attention. With a few wiggles of his big body and a thump or two of his tail, he rolled himself over and half crawled into Nines’s lap. Nines couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, tickling under Gavin’s chin next. 

He soothed Gavin with long strokes of his hand, checking his internal clock as he did so. The change had occurred around nine o’clock this time around, and the current time read as nearing eleven. As far as Nines knew, the change would revert come sunrise which was scheduled to occur at approximately 6:14 a.m. Seven hours left. 

He told Gavin as much. “Do you think you can sleep?” he asked quietly, thankful for his artificial limbs and the way they didn’t need much circulation to continue functioning. Under Gavin’s considerable weight, a human might have been uncomfortable. 

Gavin snuffled and flicked his ears. His version of a shrug. 

Hmm. What to do? Keeping Gavin’s mind occupied would definitely assist in helping him through the night. He could perhaps play some of Gavin’s favorite music. He had playlists already prepared from past work sessions they’d shared when Gavin had complained about working in silence. But, knowing how sensitive a dog’s hearing was, perhaps the harsh techno beats and screaming lyrics wouldn’t be as well-received in this form. A movie? Nines was capable of projecting images in his palm. 

He ran the suggestion by Gavin. It was met with lukewarm interest. Gavin’s tail thumped against the ground, his eyes closing. Nines continued petting him, heavy passes of his hand that pulled deep rumbles from Gavin’s chest, akin to a cat’s purr. 

“Would you like me to order you some food?” It was late but there were several places that offered late-night delivery on this side of town. Gavin had a list of places he enjoyed and frequently ordered from when caught up in a case after hours. “I have all of your usual orders memorized. I will have to get up to get it from the front desk—”

Gavin’s ears flattened against his skull. A pervasive whine undercut the rest of Nines’s words, so Nines stopped talking entirely. His processors analyzed the sound faster this time; he was becoming more and more fluent in Gavin’s canine body language the longer he was exposed to it.

“You do not wish me to leave you,” Nines translated, stroking his hand down Gavin’s head to soothe the tension from his body. “That’s fine. I brought some more soup with me since I thought that might be the case. Would you like that instead? It might not be very warm but it would only require me to walk to the fridge in the breakroom.” He made a note to remember this for next time. Do not leave Detective Reed for any reason. 

A snuffled sigh sounded next. Gavin closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders. 

“Gavin,” Nines said softly. “You haven’t eaten in at least a day. It would do you good to eat now.” He’d been with Gavin this morning and had seen for himself how haggard and out of sorts Gavin had been. His appetite always vanished in the hours leading up to a shift. 

Gavin cracked open his eyes and did his approximation of a whine. His sharp, white fangs peeked past his lips. It wasn’t very threatening all things considered. He was still draped over Nines’s lap, and it made him look pitiful rather than aggressive. He rolled over and uncovered one of Nines’s legs. Was that… permission? Reluctant permission, but… Hmm. 

Nines waited a moment and then slowly began to shift out from beneath the wolf. Gavin didn’t react; he certainly didn’t make it easier for Nines by lifting himself but at least he didn’t snap at Nines or growl. With a few well placed tugs and some coordination, Nines freed himself from the bulk of Gavin’s person. He stood up and dusted himself off. 

“I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” he promised. “Would you like me to heat the soup up? It will take longer but it might do you good to eat something hot.”

Gavin whined. The sound was raw and sad, aggressively vulnerable in a way that Gavin never was. Nines felt his processors stutter. Red winked at him from his reflection in the one-way mirror across the room. 

He never wanted to hear Gavin make that sound again. Ever. 

He crouched down immediately and petted Gavin’s head and neck. Gavin lifted his head a little, staring at him balefully. “I will be as quick as I can,” Nines promised, his voice soft and lowered out of some need to reassure the wolf of his sincerity. “I won’t leave you for long.”

Gavin lowered his head and turned his snout towards the wall. His tail wagged lethargically, his ears not quite perked but higher than they had been before when he’d suggested going down to the front desk. Nines continued to pet him for another few seconds, then stood up fully once more and made for the door. 

“Call for me if you need me,” he said with one foot out of the room. He couldn’t help but turn back just to take one last look at Gavin on the floor. “I have my auditory sensors keyed in to your heartbeat and breathing as well as synced into the microphones in the room. Just let me—”

An impatient harrumph sounded suddenly. Gavin grumbled and snuffled, and when he looked over his shoulder at Nines, Nines read copious amounts of impatience in the wolf’s body language.  _ Stop patronizing me,  _ the expression said.  _ Just go get me the fucking soup already.  _

Nines smiled a little. Message received. 

He slipped out the door and made sure to close it behind him, then ran down the empty hall to the bullpen. A few officers were lingering about, some at their terminals and others off in the breakroom to refill their coffees. The night shift. Nines nodded to the ones who called out to him but largely ignored the questions directed at him as to why he was still here given the hour, and whether or not he was moonlighting to make up for Gavin’s absences. Nines had hoped the Lieutenant might have briefed them of what was happening right now. Perhaps Hank was looking out for Gavin’s privacy by withholding the information. 

Either way, Nines made quick work of pulling the large tupperware container of soup from the fridge. The microwave was thankfully vacant, the usual lunch hour for the night shift still some ways away. He cracked the lid of the container and put it inside, running the microwave’s serial number to analyze what time to use to assure a hot-but-not-too-hot temperature. Gavin would be eating this without a spoon, after all, and it wouldn’t do anyone any good to help him burn his nose. 

As he waited for the soup to heat up, he took in the room around him. A few of the officers were watching him curiously. None had mentioned the oddity of seeing an android heating up food but he could read the question in their eyes easily. Nines didn’t bother addressing it. He didn’t want to get wrapped up in a conversation even after the soup had finished heating up. He needed to get back to Gavin. 

The microwave beeped. 

Nines blinked and whipped back around, pulling the hot-but-not-too-hot bowl from the heating plate. He closed the lid fully and tucked it under his arms, pausing only to grab several handfuls of paper towel before moving back through the bullpen at a swift clip. A few voices called out to him; he didn’t bother to acknowledge it. He’d apologize tomorrow. 

He was full on sprinting when he reached the back hall that led to the interrogation rooms. He reached the door and flung it open. “Gavin, I’m back,” he said. His internal timer told him he’d been gone perhaps seven minutes total. Gavin was still on the floor— of course, there was nowhere else for him to go. All of the chairs and tables had been relocated for the evening for his comfort. He’d migrated towards the corner in Nines’s absence though. His face was hidden, his wide shoulders hunched. Gavin froze at the sound of his voice. He did not turn around. 

“Gavin?” Analysis in progress. Processing, processing…

Nines’s eyes widened. He crossed the room in four steps. “Gavin, my sensors indicate blood particles in the air.” He set the soup down quickly and buried his fingers in Gavin’s fur. “Are you injured?”

Gavin froze. He resolutely did not look up. Nines frowned. He looped his arms around Gavin, physically moving him away from the corner. Gavin thrashed and let out a startled bark, and then a growl when he was finally out in the open. His snout was flecked with blood. His front paws were wet with red. 

“Gavin—”

A snarl. Gavin jerked himself free from Nines’s hands and backed away, eyes averted and tail curled between his legs. 

Separation anxiety, Nines’s mind supplied flatly. 

The guilt hit somewhere deep in his stomach, twisting and burning around his thirium pump. He wasn’t sure what to do. Dress Gavin’s wounds flashed through his mind palace, the letters big and bold. Infection would set in at a higher rate if he didn’t. But… Gavin curled himself into a ball, tongue lapping at his bitten front paws. He was trembling. 

“This was why you didn’t want me to sit with you, isn’t it?” Nines whispered. He’d seen the wounds on Gavin the last time and had assumed they occurred during the shift. It was clear now that they hadn’t. “Does it… Does it get your mind off the rest of it? Self-harming—”

Gavin let out a low growl. His paws were clean of blood but Nines could still see the pink, open wounds lying beneath the fur. The wolf hid his face and tried vainly to hide from Nines. Despite his large size he seemed desperate to curl himself into as small a ball as possible. 

Understanding came over Nines slowly. Embarrassingly slow. He let out a simulated breath and felt like an idiot. “You didn’t want me to see,” he said. “You didn’t want any of us to see.” Gavin was such a prideful man. For as big and strong as he was now, it was clear he was just a frightened animal like this. Out of control, lacking the ability to argue or articulate himself. Desperate for company but hating to ask for it, to know someone else was around to see just how scared he was to be alone. 

Gavin kept his head down. His tail relaxed minutely, just enough to give a lackluster twitch. Nines swallowed and inched closer. When Gavin didn’t flinch away, he put himself beside Gavin and reached out his hand to pet his head. Gavin snuffled. He didn’t open his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Nines whispered, petting him softly. “I won’t leave again. Will you let me look at your paws?”

Another snuffle, punctuated by a soft whine. Nines kept petting him, twisting himself at the waist to grab the paper towels he’d taken from the kitchen. They wouldn’t be much more than a stopgap measure right now, seeing as he didn’t have any sort of antiseptic in here. There were first aid kits out in the bullpen and scattered around the precinct building, but there was no way Nines was going to leave the room to get one. Not again. He made another mental note: bring first aid supplies next time.

He shifted around to Gavin’s front and carefully lifted a paw in his hand, resting it on his thigh. He used the tips of his fingers to move the fur aside, taking in the bitemarks Gavin had left in the flesh. They weren’t deep; Gavin had just been gnawing at them hard enough to puncture the skin but not to penetrate the muscle or tendon. Nines carefully dabbed at them and wrapped them in the paper towel. Once Gavin shifted back, he’d apply proper treatment. Until then, this would have to be enough. 

When he glanced up to check on Gavin, he saw that Gavin was watching him closely. He looked… forlorn. As forlorn as a creature with a snout could look, at any rate. His large head cocked to the side, and his ears were flat against his skull. Nines watched him, trying to understand what he wanted. Then, Gavin sighed and looked away. 

“Are you… trying to ask me something?” 

Gavin shifted and shrugged in his own way. So, probably. Nines ran over a few options, trying to ascertain what the most likely question Gavin would have at this point in time. Something personal. He kept looking at Nines, at his paws. He was clearly upset and ashamed. His pride was wounded, and for Gavin that meant his self-esteem had taken a hit as well. 

“Are you wondering why I’m doing this?” Nines guessed, his eyes widening a little when Gavin froze. So, that was it. Nines reached out and petted Gavin again. “Because I want to, Gavin. I…” He paused. Because they were friends didn’t sound like a good enough reason. Gavin had other friends, and he hadn’t allowed any of them to stay with him. 

Nines’s processors stuttered. He curled his fingers through Gavin’s soft fur, holding his hand there even when Gavin tried to move his head away. How was he meant to proceed? 

He was jolted into movement when Gavin’s tongue began to lap at his hand. Nines startled and looked down. Gavin had his eyes closed, his pink tongue licking his hand from fingertip to wrist. An apology?

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Gavin,” Nines said softly. He didn’t move his hand away though. “I just… am having some difficulties analyzing my own behavior. I want to help you. We… work together. I enjoy that. I enjoy spending my day with you. I…”

Gavin retracted his tongue. He stared at Nines with wide, pale eyes. His ears were lowered but not out of fear or distress. His tail thwumped against the ground. Hard. It would be so easy for someone who didn’t know Gavin to see him like this and scream monster. To take in the size of him, the monstrous teeth and massive claws, and view him as something dangerous. As something that needed to be locked up and thrown away. As something disposable. Something without value or sentience. 

Another wave of understanding arose to follow the first. Something locked into place within Nines’s thought processors. His hand trembled. He ran calibration tests and pushed through when they warned him of instabilities detected. 

It took a bit of effort to find his voice. Emotions and feelings rolled over him, determined to make this difficult. He opened his mouth and pushed through it. “It cannot be easy for you, being the way you are. I understand that. Being inexorably linked to one’s own nature and struggling to work through it, past it. Being in an environment where everyone is watching and judging…” 

It was hard. Nines still combatted residual programming from his machine days. The prompts rose up randomly, encouraging him to be expedient over empathetic, to disregard feeling in favor of cold, hard logic. Gavin’s own struggles were of a similar vein, but instead of an internal conflict his were manifested externally. He missed work because of this. He struggled to hide it from his coworkers, from those who might want to find any excuse to keep Gavin from succeeding, from excelling at the job he was born to do. It was a constant battle against one’s own nature. Nines could only empathize. 

He could only want to help. 

Nines slowly moved himself closer to Gavin, putting his back to the wall once more. It didn’t take long—or even an invitation—for Gavin to crawl into his lap once again, just as they had been before. Specks of blood still matted the fur of Gavin’s snout. Nines picked up some of the remaining paper towel and dabbed at them, cleaning him until no trace remained. 

What a funny turn of fate, he thought, that he’d brought these napkins to do the same for Gavin. He’d expected to be cleaning soup off him though. Not blood. It didn’t take much to know which Nines would have preferred to do. 

At least Gavin had someone here to do it at all. He could only imagine how terrible it must feel to wake up after a night alone of anxiety and fear to find blood dried on one’s face, wrists and hands bitten and mangled from injuries beyond remembering. 

Nines blinked. Gavin was watching him. He had his jaw resting in Nines’s cupped hand, his big, baleful eyes watching him silently. There was so much intelligence in these eyes. Nines didn’t fight the urge to lean forward. He pressed his forehead to Gavin’s, closing his eyes as Gavin licked at his cheek softly. 

It felt insurmountable, the effort it would take to articulate this revelation to Gavin. Nines wasn’t used to feeling that. He wasn’t used to feeling insufficient. He rested his cheek against the soft top of Gavin’s head, letting his sensors process the sensation, the scent, the warmth wafting off of Gavin’s hulking figure in waves. The soup was growing cold once more off to the side. It would be fine, Nines thought, if Gavin ate it cold. When he was ready, it would be there for him. 

“You should rest,” Nines said when nothing else came to mind to say. He slowly lowered his hand, resting Gavin’s head on his thigh. “Sleep for a little. I’ll be here for you. I won’t leave.” No matter what, he wouldn’t leave Gavin to the mercy of those feelings again. 

Gavin sniffled. His ears twitched and his tail gave a weak wag. He crawled a little higher up Nines’s body, tipping Nines over until he laid on the floor with him, buried in the soft, comfortable pile of pillows and blankets that had become his nest and bed for the night. His pale eyes blinked slowly.

_ Thank you,  _ they seemed to say. But maybe that was wishful thinking. 

On second thought, maybe it wasn’t. 

As Gavin slowly nodded off, Nines tamped down the urge to smile. There was no need to smile. Nothing worth smiling about had happened. If anything a frown would be more appropriate. But, Nines didn’t try to understand. He didn’t think there was a need to. It would be enough to just keep  _ being  _ for a little while longer. The rest of the night, perhaps. Just five more hours. 

And when Gavin came to, naked and human and soft in more ways than one, Nines would be there to help. He’d be there to take the cursing and swearing and misplaced anger, because Gavin needed that to cope. He’d be there to bandage his wrists and hand him a change of clothes. 

“Goodnight, Gavin,” Nines whispered, content to keep watch until then. To keep petting him in the firm, long strokes that Gavin seemed to favor. “Sleep well.” 

**Author's Note:**

> woot there we go! if you enjoyed this, feel free to follow me on twitter for more dbh funtimes @tdcloud_writes. if you like my writing style, also consider checking out my original work under the name T.D. Cloud. until next time!


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